


General Confusion

by EaglePursuit



Series: Another Summer's Sunny Days [16]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aliens, Dipcifica, F/M, Gradual Dipcifica, Heist, Post-Gravity Falls, Returning to Gravity Falls, Short, Teenage Dipper Pines, Teenage Dipper Pines and Mabel Pines, Teenage Mabel Pines, Teenage Pacifica Northwest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25612849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EaglePursuit/pseuds/EaglePursuit
Summary: Part 16 of Another Summer's Sunny Days. Dipper goes on a mission to steal a military prototype with Ford and Wendy to help him get over his emotional turmoil
Relationships: Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines
Series: Another Summer's Sunny Days [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792519
Kudos: 16





	General Confusion

**Author's Note:**

> Based on: Disney’s Gravity Falls  
> Created by: Alex Hirsch
> 
> Beta readers: my wife & PK2317  
> Art by: KID | @KIDWMA

General Confusion 

Wendy reached into the cooler for another soda and cracked the seal. “So let me get this straight; you dumped your girlfriend because she didn’t want you to be in danger? And after that, you got macked on by, like, the hottest girl in town? Are you sure you didn’t ask me to come over so you could brag, man?” She smirked facetiously.

“Wendy!” Dipper scowled at her. They were sitting on lawn chairs, talking on the roof platform of the Shack in the afternoon sun. “It’s not that I’m complaining; it’s just that when I think about being with Pacifica...being with _anybody_ , I just feel all...churny inside and freak out. I can’t be in a relationship right now when I’m like this,” he grumbled into his own soda.

“Dude.” Wendy poked him in the shoulder. “You’re thirteen. You’re going to be all churny for, like, the next five years. Welcome to teenmageddon, man.”

He groaned in dismay, pulling his hat down over his eyes.

She shrugged. “Anyway, as far as I can tell, you didn’t really make bad choices in either case. You made regular choices. They always tell you” —she affected an authoritative tone— “make good choices, not bad choices. But dude, there are so many situations with choices that aren’t good or bad. It’s just choices, man. And it can be hard to tell the situations with good/bad choices from the situations with regular choices when you’re right in the middle of them. So I think you did okay, dude. What you chose to do isn’t going to screw your life up.”

“Thanks, Wendy.” He looked down at his feet for a moment. He began again haltingly, “I’ve...I’ve been having this fear...that any girl I get involved with; it’s going to end up as, like, a long distance relationship. If I go out with a girl from home, like Crystal, it’s going to be a long distance relationship for the whole summer again. If I go out with a girl from Gravity Falls, like Pacifica, then we won’t see each other for the other nine months of the year while I’m at home. It’s like how we talked about it before. Those relationships are hard and I don’t think I can do it again.”

Wendy took a sip of her soda. “That’s rough, man. I don’t know how to solve that. It’s pretty junky either way. But I do know that if you don’t want Pacifica to be bitter and drift away, you need to talk to her. Explain what’s going on with you, and tell her you want to stay friends. I think you know how that works.” She smiled pointedly. “And you never know, dude. If you figure it out later, she might still be interested.”

“Yeah, I know; I still need to talk to her.” Dipper leaned back in his chair to think about it and put his feet up on the cooler. They heard a noise behind them. He tipped his hat up and turned to see who was intruding on their private conversation.

Ford climbed over the peak of the roof and slid down the side, jumping the last few feet to the platform with a ‘Hup!’. “Dipper, I know you’ve been struggling with some things lately. So I was thinking you might like to go on a little mission with me. Get out of town for the night. Clear your head.”

Dipper perked up. “What do you have in mind, Grunkle Ford?”

“Hold on,” Wendy interjected. “I’ve been stuck inside the Ice Cream Palace every day since we ripped the cone off the roof of the truck. If you guys are going on some crazy adventure, I want in.” 

Ford considered it and shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” He straddled the cooler and sat down on it facing them. “There’s a secret military research facility on the other side of Roadkill County. I used to moonlight as a science consultant there in the 1970s. I put out some feelers and recently heard from an old colleague that a prototype I worked on is still there; in a storage warehouse. I want to steal that prototype, or at least some parts of it, for a little something I’m putting together.”

Dipper held up a finger. “Quick question: is it a good idea to break into a military base?”

Ford looked him in the eye. “Dipper, I had to acquire items from military bases in dozens of dimensions in order to build the quantum destabilizer. It’s not always easy, but it is sometimes the only way. In this case, I don’t expect a great deal of difficulty.”

* * *

A Humvee pulled up the gatehouse in the middle of the night, its headlights illuminating the crossbar. The bored MP tapped on the glass and the driver, a female redheaded private and practically a fresh recruit, cranked the window down. “IDs, Private?”

The private reached into the back seat and took a badge handed to her by a passenger in the shadows, then offered it to the MP with her own. She smiled at the guard.

The MP glanced at the badges. “Private Pardee. General Simmons. We weren’t expecting any officers.”

The general leaned forward so the MP could see the rugged features of his face. “Son, generals don’t always show up when they’re expected. Open the gate.”

The MP gave the interior of the vehicle a cursory glance, saluted, and handed the badges back to the private. “Have a good night, sir.” Then he walked back to the gatehouse and pushed the button that raised the crossbar.

Wendy put her Humvee in gear and rolled through the gate as she cranked her window back up. “Oh, man. He bought that hard.”

Ford held up his badge. “I have to admit, Stan did some fine work on these IDs. Are you okay down there, Dipper?”

Dipper’s head appeared as if by magic in the footwell of the Humvee. “It’s a little cramped, but your blanket works.”

“It’s too bad you’re not taller. We probably could have passed you off as a buck private as well.” Ford straightened his dress uniform, which he had borrowed, along with Wendy’s fatigues, from a box in the attic of the Mystery Shack that was left over from when Stan used to sell Summerween costumes.

Dipper grumbled under his breath and pulled the blanket back over his head.

“Where are we headed, General?” Wendy asked Ford with a smirk.

He thought for a second. “This is the main thoroughfare. So just head straight past this administrative building, then we should see the warehouse on our right soon after.”

Wendy found the warehouse and parked on the cement apron in front of it, off to the side of the garage door. Across the road was a new research building that had several MPs posted at the entrance. She got out of the Humvee and walked around to open the rear door for Ford. He stashed his duffle bag under the seat then climbed out and brushed the wrinkles out of his uniform while Dipper, under the cover of the invisibility blanket, slipped out behind him and took his post as a lookout near the corner of the warehouse.

Wendy followed Ford to the warehouse’s personnel entrance and opened it for him after he spoofed the electronic badge reader with a device he had in his sleeve. They went inside.

Dipper resigned himself to idle boredom under the invisibility blanket, eying the MPs posted at the building on the other side of the road. Despite the fact that he was abetting a burglary that they would gladly throw him in the brig for, he felt a certain camaraderie with them; standing outside in the dark, keeping watch. The building itself was a fairly unremarkable prefabricated sheet-metal structure, with the exception that it had no windows and only the one entrance, which was under guard.

As the minutes trickled by he began to wonder how Ford expected boring guard duty to relieve him of anxiety over his current personal problems. His mind was in significant danger of wandering back to the breakup with Crystal and his delicate situation with Pacifica as well. Then he would be trapped in a recursive loop of overthinking and self-doubt.

He turned as he heard the engine and tires of another vehicle coming from the direction of the administrative building and main gate. A pair of headlights appeared down the road. It was another Humvee. Dipper prepared to bang his fist on the side of the warehouse, the predetermined warning signal, but it pulled in at the research building instead. A pair of men in dark suits exited the Humvee and Dipper’s eyes bugged open as he recognized them: agents Powers and Trigger. Dipper sprinted across the road to try to overhear them as they walked in the building, as much out of curiosity as to distract himself from the knots that had begun to form in his stomach.

“The base commander, Colonel Hirsch, wants us to go another round of interrogation with the infiltrator. I don’t get it. We can’t even understand a thing it says.” Agent Trigger fished around in his pockets for his badge as he neared the door.

Dipper’s ears perked up.

“Let’s give it another chance. Maybe it will try the sign language for us again. That’s what led us to their hidden weapon in the first place.” Powers had his badge clipped to his lapel and pulled it off to run through the scanner.

“And if it doesn’t?” Trigger held the door open for his partner.

“If not, we file our paperwork and go back to Washington.” Powers led the way inside.

Impulsively, Dipper closed the distance and slipped through the door between Powers and Trigger. One of his shoes clapped down audibly on the tile floor inside as he went in. Trigger hesitated for a second, looking around suspiciously, then followed Powers. It was a close call. Dipper carefully slipped off his shoes and carried them to avoid making any further noise before trailing behind the agents down a hallway.

* * *

Wendy held Ford’s ultra-bright flashlight for him as he used a forklift to move a crate off of a stack of other, similar crates. She walked up to the one that had been uncovered and compared a tracking number stenciled on the lid to one on a piece of paper that Ford had given her while he drove the forklift back to the front of the warehouse where he had borrowed it.

“Just like you said, it’s a match!” Wendy smiled as Ford came back.

“Good. Let’s pop the lid off and see if it’s inside.” He pulled a telescoping crowbar, another personal invention, out of his pants pocket and extended it with a flick of his wrist. He shoved the narrow under the lid then worked the other end up and down to loosen the nails. The crate’s wood had decayed over the decades and the nails came out quickly, but loudly. Wendy cringed at the sound of metal squeaking against wood in the otherwise silent warehouse.

Ford lifted the edge of the lid and used the crowbar to prop it open as he bent over to inspect the contents of the crate. “This is great. It looks like it’s all here, and they did us a favor by partially dismantling it for us.” He pulled a cloth bundle from another pocket, untied a string, and unrolled it on the floor like a scroll, revealing a quiet and portable tool kit. He quickly pulled out a screwdriver and a wrench from their respective pouches and began removing fasteners from the device within the crate as Wendy watched over his shoulder. After several minutes and several swapped tools, he had removed the components he needed from the military prototype.

The warehouse’s garage door opener suddenly clattered to life, scaring the two burglars. “Why didn’t Dipper warn us?” Wendy hissed in alarm.

Ford picked up his tool kit and pulled the crowbar from under the crate’s lid, letting it fall shut. “Come on. Let’s hide in the back.” 

Wendy turned off the flashlight and followed him.

A large army cargo truck was backed up to the garage door and a couple of soldiers began to unload the truck while a third supervised. One climbed in the back of the truck and loosened straps on the crates inside while the other operated the forklift, removing crates from the truck and placing them in a staging area near the door to be processed and recorded.

* * *

Powers and Trigger walked wordlessly down the stark white hallway until they arrived at another door with a badge scanner. It had a narrow reinforced window. Again, Powers swiped his badge through the reader and opened the door. This time, Dipper wasn’t fast enough to squeeze through with the agents, but he was able to stick his toe in the door before it closed completely. He looked through the window and waited a few seconds for Powers and Trigger to move far enough away that they didn’t notice the door swing open on its own. On a wall on the other side of the doorway Dipper found another badge reader, so he left one of his shoes to prevent the door from latching shut behind him. 

Dipper had entered one end of a long, rectangular room that had eight examination tables lined up in the center. Carts with trays of sterilized surgical equipment were parked off to one side. The long wall opposite from the entrance had a row of five cells fronted with plexiglass at one end. The narrow wall at the far end of the room had a door with a frosted glass window. The word ‘LAB’ was painted on the glass in block letters. It also had a badge reader next to it. The whole room had an antiseptic, institutional look to it like a hospital or prison.

Powers and Trigger were huddled together in front of one of the cells’ plexiglass windows, looking in on its occupant and whispering in hushed tones, although gesturing excitedly with their hands. Another pair of MPs were standing guard along the wall opposite the cell.

Dipper crept closer to see and hear what they were talking about.

* * *

“This blows, man.” Wendy and Ford were crouched behind a stack of crates in the back corner of the warehouse as the soldiers first unloaded the crates, then loaded other crates into the truck. After that they began inspecting and packing away the new arrivals. “We’re wearing disguises. Why can’t we just walk out of here?”

“It wouldn’t make sense for a general and a private to be in the back of the warehouse in the middle of the night. They’d be suspicious right away. We’ll just have to wait it out.” Ford sighed.

A sly grin spread slowly across Wendy’s face. “Dude, that gives me an idea.” She reached over to him and to his surprise, began loosening his tie. She managed to get the top button of his dress shirt open before he pulled away in alarm.

Wendy!” Ford stammered in protest.

She pulled a tube of peach-passionfruit colored lipstick from her pocket and applied it to her lips. “Relax, man. This won’t hurt.” She leaned towards him and kissed him on the cheek, leaving a highly conspicuous lipstick print behind. Ford’s face flushed furiously, almost rendering the lipstick invisible for a moment. “There _is_ one reason a general and a young, private would be in the back of a warehouse in the middle of the night, man.” She smiled impishly.

He looked at her aghast. It took him a second to comprehend what she had in mind before he sighed in relief. He took off his uniform jacket, and untucked part of his shirt tails.

Wendy untucked her fatigues as well and let some of her long hair escape from her patrol cap.

The night shift warehouse crew stopped and stared as an attractive, disheveled private sauntered out of the back of the warehouse, followed by a grizzled, old officer in much the same state. Wendy glanced at them coyly as she walked right out the garage door. One of the soldiers turned his head to watch her leave, leering at her from behind. Ford stepped in front of him and glowered threateningly. “You didn’t see a thing, _did_ you?”

The soldier, belatedly realizing he was in the presence of a general, quickly stood at attention and saluted. “No...no, sir!”

Ford returned the salute and smiled grimly. “Good. Good man. Get back to your duties.”

Outside, Wendy sent a text to Dipper to find out where he was.

* * *

Under the invisibility blanket, Dipper slowly approached the middle of the long room where the two MPs and the two agents stood watching the occupant of the plexiglas cell. Every foot was carefully placed to minimize detection. Eventually he stood between the agents and the MPs and turned to look at the cell’s occupant.

It was not a human, and not any kind of creature Dipper had ever seen in Gravity Falls. It was slightly taller than a person and slender with grayish green skin and opaque, almond-shaped blue eyes that glistered like opals. It lethargically watched the animated conversation between Powers and Trigger, then turned its eyes almost imperceptibly towards Dipper. Ford had said the blanket was invisible to any kind of lifeform he knew of, but Dipper felt his skin crawl. He stared back at it with a mixture of dread and curiosity, frozen in place. It eventually turned its head again and gazed at the ceiling; its hopeless resignation visceral to him.

A phone chimed and Dipper flinched in alarm, realizing it was his. Trigger spun, facing him, and Dipper nearly lost his wits. The agent marched in his direction and he stepped out of the way just in time to avoid a collision. Trigger had caught the MP standing behind Dipper reaching into his pocket just after the notification sounded. Trigger’s angry visage was inches from the MP’s face. “Corporal, I hope you are aware of the rules regarding personal phones while on duty.”

The MP cringed. “Uh yes, sir. Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again, sir.” He fiddled with the device, nervously trying to turn it off.

Dipper backed away behind one of the examination tables and pulled out his own phone. The first thing he did was silence the volume. Then he checked his text messenger.

Wendy : 

Where R U?

Dipper: 

I got sidetracked. Be right there.

Dipper began to hurry towards the exit. As he passed close to one of the carts the edge of the invisibility blanket caught on a metal tray that was wrapped in clear plastic with sterile surgical utensils neatly arranged on top. It toppled to the floor with a horrendous clatter.

The agents and MPs spun and looked at the cart. Powers pointed and gave an order to the two MPs, “Go check it out.” Dipper backed away from the spilled tray as they cautiously approached.

Dipper was so focused on the soldiers that he backed into another cart, which tipped over. The MPs didn’t wait for an order this time. They drew their guns and advanced quickly towards the tipped cart. Dipper sprinted for the door in his socks. He pulled it open, picking up his shoe and escaped into the hallway. The MPs saw the door open and ran in pursuit.

Dipper heard one of the guards chasing him shout, “Unit A, please be advised. Blockade the entrance and prepare to apprehend suspected intruder!” He looked back and the man was speaking into a handheld communication radio. He was almost to the outer door when he saw through the glass one of the MPs outside holding up his own radio to listen. The man turned to look inside as Dipper burst out the door, knocking him over.

All four MPs were on high alert now and began searching the area around the building entrance in a careful pattern as he raced across the road to Wendy’s waiting Humvee and opened the rear door to climb in.

The MPs saw the Humvee’s door open and close, seemingly on its own, and opened fire. Wendy threw the transmission in reverse as Ford growled at Dipper. “Darn it! Now they’re shooting at us!”

“Sorry!” Dipper looked at his great uncle apologetically, then did a double-take and scrutinized him. “Is that a kiss on your face?”

“It’s camouflage!” he replied irritably.

“Are you sure? It looks like lips—” Dipper was silenced by a glare from Ford.

Wendy turned the Humvee around and drove past the administrative building, towards the main gate. It was already too late. The base security had been notified and blockaded it with a truck. A dozen MPs armed with automatic rifles were there, waiting for them. “I think I can get us out of this, but I’m going to need you to buy me some time!” Ford pointed to the left. “Drive along the fenceline.”

Wendy sped towards the gate then cranked the steering wheel when the guards opened fire. The terrain was uneven and the Humvee jostled and bounced as Ford took his toolkit and the newly acquired parts out of his uniform jacket where he had hidden them when they left the warehouse. He pulled his duffle bag out from under the seat and opened it.

Dipper handed Ford tools as he pulled a complex assembly from the duffle bag and began attaching the stolen parts to it. “Is that the teleporter you found, Grunkle Ford?”

Ford didn’t look up, but kept working as the vehicle lurched violently over a deep hole. “Parts of it are. I reconfigured it and hoped to get a prototype working soon.”

Wendy glanced in the rearview mirror. “We’ve got company!” The headlights of another Humvee were gaining on them as they bounced along the fenceline. The pursuers opened fire.

Dipper hunkered down in his seat as a bullet ricocheted off a roof pillar. “I hope it’s really really soon!”

Ford did some last minute tuning with a screwdriver as they jounced erratically. “I think I’ve got it! Everyone hold on to something.” He braced the invention against the floor with his feet then pressed a button. A portal opened up under the Humvee for a split second and it fell in, tumbling end over end through a kaleidoscopic tunnel of light. Wendy held the gas pedal down out of pure terror and the tires spun uselessly in space at maximum RPM.

Seconds later they emerged from the tunnel immediately outside of the Mystery Shack. The tires spun in the dirt, then gained enough traction to send the Humvee lurching forward and into the side of the building. Lights came on in the Shack and Stan’s RV. Wendy let off the gas and put the transmission in park before she stumbled out the door and laid in the cool grass. “WoooOOOooo!” 

Shaken by the close call, Dipper looked over at Ford in alarm. “We’re in the same dimension, aren’t we, Grunkle Ford?”

Ford looked down at the invention on the floor, which was emitting smoke and sparks. “The teleporter is strictly intra-dimensional, so yes. But I think it’s going to need some more refinements before it’s fully operational.” He picked it up carefully and climbed out of the Humvee.

Stan burst out of the RV and looked Ford up and down. “What the heck is this? I thought you guys was robbin’ an army base, not skippin’ off to Vegas! You didn’t even invite me!?”

Ford was too exhausted to respond to his brother. He wiped the lipstick off his cheek with his sleeve and walked into the Shack.

* * *

Dipper crept into the attic bedroom he shared with Mabel. It was very late and everything was quiet. He glanced at his sister to verify that she was asleep before he carefully laid down on his own bed. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it in front of him, the glow of the screen illuminating the features of his face. He manipulated the interface with his finger, selecting the text messenger and Pacifica’s contact. He wasn’t sure if she was awake or would even respond if she woke up to see a text from him. He stared at it for several minutes in apprehension then began typing with his thumbs.

Dipper: 

Hey

Pacifica: 

Hey

Her reply was quick, relieving his concerns that he might wake her. He pressed on despite a wave of anxiety rising in his belly.

Dipper: 

I know Mabel already talked to you

But I wanted to tell you myself

I’m sorry about the way I acted yesterday

Pacifica: 

It’s ok

Dipper: 

I’m going through some stuff right now

And I’m just not ready for a relationship

Pacifica:

I get it. I rushed you. I’m sorry too

Dipper: 

I hope we can be friends again, if that’s ok

Pacifica: 

I’d like that. My feelings hurt, but I will be ok

Dipper: 

And I’ll try to do better to keep in touch, I promise

Pacifica:

Thanks

Dipper: 

Goodnight

Pacifica: 

Goodnight

He was about to set his phone down and try to rest when he stopped. There was still something that he felt he needed to acknowledge. It was probably the first thing Mabel had told Pacifica when they had a chance to text each other after the argument; he mentally cursed his sister’s meddling. He typed it out and hesitated momentarily in deliberation before pressing ‘send’ with a cringe.

Dipper: 

Um, one more thing. It really was a good kiss ;-p

Pacifica: 

You’re the worst. Go to sleep. ;-)

Be sure to read the next adventure 

Mabel’s Magic


End file.
